Broken Doll
by tigpop
Summary: One shot based after Bloodlines. Harry comforts Nikki after another break up, and both end up confronting their fears from the past.


**A rather long one-shot, sorry! It just seemed to keep going.**

**Based after Bloodlines, and on the song 'Broken Doll' by Paloma Faith. I've never used song lyrics in a fic before, and I'm not sure if it works or fits, so hopefully it's ok. I was kinda addicted to the song, and had to write a fic about it, and this is what appeared.**

**A special thank you to Dinabar who mentioned the BBC writersroom where the script for Bloodlines is posted. It really helped when writing this :D And is it sad that I notice all the little differences between the script and the episode? I think I might have watched it too many times :P**

**Anyway, I know it's long, but I hope it makes sense :)**

**xXx**

* * *

><p><strong>Broken Doll<strong>

This wasn't how you were planning to spend your night by any means, and yet here you are. Alone on a Friday night, with nothing but a glass of vodka for company, an old black and white film playing in the background that your not paying any attention to. Something with guns in you guess, you can vaguely hear the shots in the back of your mind. And yet slowly the gun shots seem to get louder, reverberating through your mind and sending you back to a place that you had hoped your subconscious had forgotten.

Well, not forgotten. There's no way you'll ever forget what happened in those few days. How many people died – people you had cared for, people who had kept you safe. And someone you had briefly seen yourself spending the rest of your life with. But that was just a fantasy. When you look back on it, there is no way that you would have moved to Hungary. There's no way you would allow yourself to.

Because there's someone you would miss too much. Someone who you couldn't live without, despite the fact that Anna was offering you the chance of a family. A wife. Of a future. But it was a future without Nikki.

And that wasn't a future at all.

You'd watched Nikki as she crumbled at the sight of you alive, after you let her believe you were dead. You did that to her. And it was intentional. You let her think that she had lost you forever, and you did nothing to stop the pain that she would feel until you knew you were safe. You took the coward's way out. You hurt her, and since then you have been doing everything and anything to make sure she knows how much you're sorry. How much you regret your decisions, even though you knew there was no other way.

And so that's why you're sitting on your own at the kitchen table, staring at the pure white walls and trying to erase the very real gun shots from your mind. Because you know that it will be hours before you give in to sleep, how ever little you manage to grasp. Your leg seems to ache every at every shot, a reminder that there are scars that have been left behind, and not just the emotional ones. Real, physical scars that will never truly heal.

You had planned to go to the pub tonight with Nikki and Leo like you used to do, but that had failed. Dramatically. Leo had planned some romantic meal for Janet to celebrate their anniversary, and Nikki… she had found another unsuitable to spend the night with. Geoff.

He works in a bank, nine to five, five days a week. And yes, you think he's a boring idiot, and yet she says that he gives her stability. A routine. She knows when he's going to finish work, and that he will be at the pub when he says he will be. They've been seeing each other for twenty six days now. That's almost four weeks. Almost a month. An entire month where you've been second best. Where you've had to take the back seat and watch as Nikki laughs at his jokes, and holds his hand, and kisses his cheek. Not yours.

And yet you've said nothing. Because she deserves happiness. She deserves stability and security and a routine that you could never give her. You come with your own set of crazy mixed up problems, and even though she's the only one that comes close to knowing what they are, you can't burden her with them. She deserves to be happy, even if that means it's without you.

You can't be selfish any more.

Staring at the windowpane, you can see the raindrops race each other down the glass, trying to reach the bottom before they're caught by another one and seem to disappear completely. It's a miserable night, which only seems to reflect your mood. Like everything is against you tonight, determined to make you feel as depressed as possible, and completely and utterly sorry for yourself.

There's a flash of lightning, a crack of thunder, and almost simultaneously a knock at your door. As first you think you've imagined it, that it was just the storm, and yet you seem to sense more than hear the knock. Its quarter to midnight, and only one person that ever knocks on your door at this time. But it can't be her tonight. Tonight she is out with Geoff, and staying at his for the night. She tells you that she's not, but you know she is. She's a terrible liar. She doesn't need to lie to you, but you know that she feels guilty about being happy when you lost so much in Hungary.

She doesn't seem to realise that yes, you lost someone you thought you loved, a child that you could have had, and yet it was the thought of never seeing her again that terrified you more. Of dying without telling her how much you loved her. But telling her now would again be selfish. It would just push you apart. She's happy with Geoff, and that's all that matters. You've spent the last seven years loving her in secret, and you can keep it secret forever if it meant that you can keep the relationship you have.

You're at the door within seconds, cautiously pulling it open and finding yourself face to face with a soaking Nikki, the rain dripping off her nose and darkening her hair into long, drenched strands. She's shaking, her bare arms covered in goose bumps and her teeth chattering together, her dark black mascara smudged across her pale cheeks. She's been crying, you can tell immediately, as she stares at you through her huge brown eyes, asking you so many questions without uttering a word.

"Harry?"

You've pulled her into your arms and into your living room before she can say anything else, holding her tight to your chest as the sobs begin, soaking your shirt in both salty tears and rain.

_**I'm a broken doll,  
>And you're the puppeteer,<br>Take control for me  
>And wipe away my fear.<strong>_

Guiding her gently across the room, you sit her on your sofa, throwing a warm blanket over her shoulders, and kneeling down in front of her, flicking on the lamp. It's then that you get to look at her properly for the first time. When she had been standing on your doorstep, it had been the tears that you had focused on, and the fear in her eyes. But now, now you can see her clearly, and can see the purple bruise on her cheekbone that spreads up to her eye level. She's avoiding looking at you, and you know that she knows how angry you'll be. Carefully, you tilt her chin up with your finger, forcing her to look at you as you wipe away the tear that escapes with your thumb.

"What happened?"

You know she won't tell you immediately. That it will take all of your reassurance and gentle words to get it out of her. You'll need to keep any anger that you feel locked up until she's finished talking, otherwise she'll close up and refuse to talk. As you guessed, she shakes her head at your question and so you move her head to the side to get a better look at her swollen cheekbone, and to emphasise to her that you've noticed it. That you're not going to let the subject drop until she tells you everything. Like she always does.

_**I don't claim to be perfect -  
>I know I'm damaged goods,<br>But I wanna be let out of darkness  
>Just like every lady would.<br>**_  
>You can see how reluctant she is to talk as she picks at a stray thread on the blanket, her breathing having finally steadied out. You know that you're going to have to be the first one to talk, to make her open up, otherwise you'll be here all night and get nowhere.<p>

"If there was nothing wrong, you wouldn't be at my doorstep at nearly midnight, soaking wet and shaking like a leaf, would you Niks? You'd be with Geoff-"

"Don't say his name," she whispers, and yet you can hear the pain in her voice, emphasising all of your fears.

"He did this to you, didn't he?"

You place the side of your finger to her cheek, and can see her try to not pull away at the contact.

"I thought he loved me Harry," she whispers again, her voice catching. "I know that he could do so much better than me, that I'm nothing compared to other girls. But I thought he cared about me. I thought he was different. I thought-"

She's crying again, and so you move to sit next to her on the sofa, pulling her in close so she can lean her head on your shoulder, a small sigh escaping her lips.

"I know what people think about me Harry," she continues. "I know they think that I'm a tart, that I just jump into bed with anyone who buys me a drink. But it's not true Harry. I thought Geoff was different. I thought that he understood me, and that he wouldn't listen to what other people might say."

You tighten your grip on her waist, not wanting her to have to explain everything, but knowing that it's the only way.

"I went to meet him, like he'd asked. We were at the pub for about half an hour, we had a drink and we were talking to John the barman. And then he said that we should go back to his. That he had something to show me," you notice that her voice sounds distant, and she's staring at the thread again. "We got back to his flat and he seemed to change immediately. He told me that he didn't like the fact that I was flirting with other men, that it made him look like an idiot. I tried to explain that I'd known John years, and that it wasn't flirting. That I wouldn't flirt with anyone when I was seeing him. But then he accused me of cheating."

She pauses, looking you straight in the eyes.

"He accused me of cheating with you Harry."

_**Lick my wounds and watch them seal  
>With a healing heart,<br>Embrace my sadness, look after me,  
>'Cause there's no-one else I'd ask.<br>**_  
>You stand and move to your kitchen as her tears start again, trying to ignore the anger that's building up inside you, ready to explode. Your fingers grasp the freezer door handle tightly and you can see your knuckles turn white. There's a bag of frozen peas in the bottom drawer that you're sure Nikki bought because there's no way you would ever willingly buy vegetables, and so you take them and wrap them in a clean towel, before moving back to Nikki and gently resting it against her cheek bone.<p>

"I'm sorry," she stutters and you almost yell out in anger at the thought that she feels like she has to apologise. "I didn't know where else to go, and you're probably sick of me turning up at your door, and you'll want me out the way-"

She moves as if to leave and you stand in front of her, preventing her from standing up.

"Don't you dare apologise," you tell her, holding out your hand, which she takes, and you pull her into a tight hug, the blanket falling to the floor along with the frozen peas.

It's then that you notice the bruises on her upper arms, in the perfect shape of a pair of large hands.

"What did he do to you?"

You sigh, and yet you know that you weren't really asking her, more questioning the silence, as if you expect someone else to just materialise and tell you what happened so she doesn't need to. And yet she answers you anyway, whispering it against your chest.

"He pushed me against the wall, and he wouldn't let go. I told him you and I were just friends, best friends, but no more. But he didn't believe me. I tried to leave but he wouldn't let go. He wouldn't be quiet. He kept shouting and yelling and he was right in my face. And then he lashed out, and I didn't move in time."

"He hit you," you feel your entire body shaking as you hold her tight, trying to hide the fact that you want to go round to his flat and punch his lights out. Cause him as much physical pain as he has inflicted on Nikki and more. But you know you can't leave her, not when she's like this.

_**I'm a broken doll,  
>And you're the puppeteer,<br>Take control for me  
>And wipe away my fear.<br>**_  
>Pulling away, you look her over completely, over her bare arms, and ripped tights. There's grazes on her knees and the palms of her hands. She's obviously stumbled as she's made her way to your apartment, her small silver pumps scuffed on the toes.<p>

"Go have a shower," you tell her, not letting her say otherwise.

You don't realise that your hands are resting on her shoulders until she goes to move and you find yourself guiding her towards your bathroom, as if making sure that she's going to listen to your request.

"I'll have some clothes waiting for you when you get out."

"Ok," she nods, and you know that she's grateful for someone telling her what to do, even though she'd never admit it. She's Nikki after all – your stubborn, independent Nikki who can twist a guy around her little finger in a matter of minutes, and persuade you to see the evidence in a completely different light on many cases. She's passionate about her job, and will work all hours to ensure that the victim is given the justice they deserve. And yet she can be broken, just like anyone else, at the hands of the wrong guy, leaving it up to you to pick up the pieces.

_**Piece me all together,  
>The broken high and sweet,<br>You thought my heart was made of wood  
>But I can hear it beat.<strong>_

You pace your apartment for the twenty minutes that she spends in the bathroom, busying yourself with sorting out some clothes for her to wear, picking up the blanket and the frozen peas, and cleaning up the dishes from your breakfast that morning. You know that you have to keep busy, otherwise you'll disappear from your apartment and find the guy who hurt her. But that means that you'll probably spend the night in a cell, and Nikki would be left alone again.

And there's no way that you'll let that happen to her.

"Harry?"

Her voice sounds stronger, as if the hot water has warmed up every part of her body, and you can see her standing in the doorway to the bathroom, a fluffy cream towel wrapped around her middle. You can feel the smile that has graced your lips, and she seems to mirror your actions.

"As much as I appreciate you letting me use one of your fluffiest towels, can I have some clothes? Please?"

Laughing, you make your way over to your bedroom, picking up the pile of clothes and handing them over, freezing momentarily as your fingers brush together.

Within five minutes, she reappears, dressed in a pair of your joggers that completely cover her toes, and a hoody that reaches her knees, her hair still dripping down her back.

"My shoulder hurts," she explains as you lift up her soaking hair, raising your eyebrows. "I couldn't dry it properly without it aching. He- he leant on my shoulder to pin me to the wall-"

"Please don't," you don't want to interrupt her but you know that you can't continue to listen to what happened to her and still keep your cool.

Silently, you take the towel from her hand, spinning her round on the spot and gently rub her hair dry, wondering to yourself how you managed to get into this situation today. Hungary seemed to have changed so much, and changed nothing at all…

"Very gentle," she smiles at you as you drop the towel to the floor. "I wouldn't give up your day job though. I can't really see you as a hairdresser."

Laughing again, you grab a DVD off the top of the pile, the same one that always seems to get stuck on and yet you don't think you've ever seen the end of, and meet her back on the sofa where she has her feet tucked up. Almost as soon as you sit down, she had slid across the sofa, resting her head on your chest and pulling the sleeves of your hoody over her hands.

"Why do they think that all I'm good for is sex Harry?" she asks you bluntly, and you sigh to yourself, knowing that she's looking for an answer. "Why do they all think they can just play around, have a little fun, and expect me to be happy with just the casual fling? They obviously aren't interested in me. They just see me as an easy target, who'll be there to satisfy them until they get bored. But I feel it Harry. Every break up, every time that I think they love me, or that they care for me in any way and all this time they're playing with me like a puppet. Before cutting my strings and letting me fall. I feel it Harry, and I know I act as though it doesn't affect me, and that I'm strong, but it hurts. Every time, it hurts Harry."

"I know," you can hear your voice trembling again, knowing that you yourself have caused some of the pain in the past. "Nikki they're not good enough for you. You deserve better, and I'm not just saying that to make you feel better. You deserve someone who loves every little part of you, including your stubbornness, and your perseverance, and your attention to detail. You are strong, but you need someone there to hold you when you're upset and not question why. You need someone who doesn't hurt you, and who knows when all you need is a coffee."

"Someone like you Harry?"

Your not sure if it's a statement or a question, but you know that you want to answer 'yes', and you know that it's not the right time for that either. And so you resort to your backup plan, the one that's so often used in these situations.

"Oh, you'll never fond someone as good looking and charismatic as me Niks, but you might come close."

She smiles slightly, and you know you've dodged the question again, but all you want to do is lean over and kiss her, and it takes all your willpower to remain focused on the TV screen in front of you.

_**I'm scared of shadows in the night,  
>When you're not there by my side.<br>Sick of nightmares in my sleep -  
>There's no place I can hide.<strong>_

As you guessed, it barely takes ten minutes for Nikki to fall asleep on your chest, her breathing becoming heavy and her eyes flickering as he dreams. You want to stay as you are, with her body against yours, sharing the heat, and yet you know if you do, she'll wake up with a stiff neck and complain about it all night. So gently, you scoop her up in your arms and carry her to your bedroom, tucking her under the sheets and stroking her hair before leaving again.

If you'd been told a few hours ago that Nikki Alexander would sleep in your bed tonight, there's no way that you'd have believed them.

Pulling a spare blanket from the airing cupboard, and stripping down to your boxers and t-shirt, you settle down on the sofa, realising that it has long gone three o'clock, and you're both on call tomorrow. There's always something to do on a Saturday after all the drunken accidents of a Friday night. There's no such thing as a weekend when you're a pathologist.

But you can't sleep. Images of Nikki pinned against the wall swim through your mind. Of his fist connecting to her cheekbone, and his hands gripping her arms. You still want to run from the apartment now that Nikki is asleep, and find the guy, but you know that if you punch him once, there's no way that you would be able to stop. No, you'll take Nikki to the police station in the morning instead, let her report him for what he's done. Make him pay for it properly.

"Harry!"

You're sitting bolt upright in a split second, and moving towards your bedroom a second after. Nikki's sitting too, when you open the door, her knees tucked up and the tears flowing from her eyes once more.

"Sssh," you try to comfort her, sitting on the edge of the bed and smoothing out her still damp hair. "It's ok. He's not here. He won't hurt you."

But she just shakes her head.

"It wasn't him. It wasn't Geoff. It was the same one. The same nightmare."

Pulling her in closer, you realise just how much she's shaking. The same one? Nikki didn't used to have nightmares. She'd fallen asleep at yours countless times over the last few years, mainly down to alcohol, and yet she'd never woke up screaming before.

"But you called my name?"

"I always call your name."

Her voice is barely audible, and yet the words cut through you knowing that you're not always there to hold her like you are now. There's no hesitation in the words that leave her lips, as if she can't hide the truth from you. She calls for you, and you're not there.

"Where were you?"

"Budapest."

And there's the answer that you had been praying she wouldn't give you. Because you know exactly why she calls out your name now. What her nightmares have been about. You had let her believe you were dead, she had called out to you at the memorial and you had refused to stay. You had left her again and disappeared into the unknown without her.

"Me too," you whisper in her ear, knowing that she'll understand. You've visited Budapest so many times you've lost count, sometimes just to see Anna on the balcony, other times you're watching Nikki walk up the marble steps towards you. And sometimes, when you can't quite control it, you're being shot. You can smell the petrol. And you watch the flames dance across your eyes.

So without saying a word, you pull back the sheets and tuck her back in, before moving to the other side and getting in with her. Immediately she moves closer to you, tucking herself up into the shape of your own body as you wrap your arms around her.

_**See the beauty in the blood,  
>That drips down from my eyes<br>Hold the parts that were ripped out  
>That had took me by surprise.<strong>_

And you hold her tight, and wipe away the tears from her cheeks, and comfort her every time another sob escapes, knowing that eventually she'll have to give in to sleep. But until then you'll make sure she feels safe.

"You left me," she says eventually into the darkness. "You let me see that you were alive, and then you made me lose you all over again. I was just starting to believe you were gone. I went to Budapest to bring you home. I couldn't bare the thought of you dead- the thought of you alone in a country you didn't know. But then you were alive, but I still couldn't touch you, or be held by you. You were alive, but you weren't my Harry. You were still gone."

"I know, I'm sorry. I had to, for so many reasons that I can't even remember now," you tell her quickly. "My head was all over the place. I'd just found out about the baby, and seen Anna dead. Janos had been shot in front of me. I'd killed a guy Nikki! I didn't trust myself around you. I didn't know myself. I just knew that I was dangerous, and I had to be away from you and Leo, otherwise you were in danger too."

"When I shouted after you," she leans back slightly to look you in the eyes. "I was going to tell you something. When I ran after you. I thought it'd make you stay, but then I remembered Anna and knew that I couldn't tell you. That it would make no difference because you were still going to go, and there was no way that you would want to hear it."

"What?"

She hesitates slightly, and you run your finger over her cheekbone again as she shakes her head.

"You know I'll never, ever do anything like that again, don't you?" she nods half heartily at your question before you continue. "I mean it Nikki. Never. I'm never going to leave you again, no matter what. No matter how many unsuitable guys get in the way, I'll always be here for you. And when you find the perfect man, I'll shake him by the hand and wish him good luck, but I won't go away. I'm never going to hurt you, ever again."

She's crying again, but you know the reason for the tears has changed. Again she shakes her head.

"Harry, that's the whole point. I don't want there to be any more unsuitable guys ever again. I don't want to ever have to turn up at your doorstep a mess again because they've let me down."

"Ok," you smirk. "I'll be there after all your dates with unsuitable girls then."

"I'm being serious Harry!"

Your attempt at humour to avoid the serious subject has backfired this time, and she's now looking at you, her eyes wide and full of tears.

"Harry. I don't want anyone else. Ever. I love you. That's what I wanted to tell you in Budapest. I love you Harry Cunningham and I never want to lose you again."

You freeze, if only for a split second, before you feel a smile spread across your lips.

"Well that's good to know, because I just happen to love you too Nikki Alexander."

"Really?" she sounds shocked, as if doubting your answer. "You're not just saying that to shut me up?"

"Really really. Always have, always will. And since when have I been able to shut you up?"

Her fingers tighten against your T-shirt as she curls further into your chest, before reaching up and running her fingers along your chin. Your eyes lock, and suddenly, without any planning, your lips connect and everything but Nikki disappears. There's no more Budapest, no more Geoff. No more thunderstorm or gun shots or fear.

Just you and Nikki.

You notice her tears have reappeared and try to pull away but she just deepens the kiss, pulling in closer to you as her hands explore under your shirt. You can hear your heart hammering in your chest, her warm breath on your neck as her hands slowly move down your body. You don't want to stop. But you know that this isn't really what she wants. She's upset, and she feels used. You're just there to fall back on, and you can't' let her.

"No," you sound forceful and you grab her hand in yours, her eyes suddenly wide again. "Not now Nikki."

She freezes, before turning away and going to leave the bed, but you don't let go of her hand.

"Let go of me Harry," she sounds angry, but you ignore her request. "Just leave me alone! I was stupid; I should never have- why would I even think that you would want me? After everything that's happened, after losing the woman you loved, and after Geoff and- and- why did I think I was good enough for you?"

"Stop it," you pull yourself over to the other side of the bed and wrap your arms around her tight. "I never loved Anna, not really. I never got the chance. I love you Nikki, with all my heart and don't ever, _ever _think that you are not good enough, because you are more than that. You're everything I could ever dream of and more. But you don't want to sleep with me tonight. You're hurting, that's all. How about we take things slow, yeah?"

"You really want to be with me?"

"Of course I do. But you're far too special for a one night stand. Now come on, you need to sleep. If we're going to tell Leo about us any time soon we need to be on our best form to defend ourselves from his witty remarks and I told you so's."

She laughs as you pull her back under the sheets, curling up against your chest once more so it's difficult to tell where one of you stops and the other begins. And slowly, you hear her breathing steady and watch her eyes drift closed.

You dream again that night, but Budapest is nowhere to be seen.

It's just you and Nikki, and nothing else matters anymore. Together, all the fears are wiped away, replaced with love, comfort and something you will never be able to explain.

_**I'm a broken doll,  
>And you're the puppeteer,<br>Take control for me  
>And wipe away my fear.<strong>_


End file.
